Candle of Hope

Nine inches of snow yesterday caused our church to cancel services today. The intent was to keep people from venturing out onto the blustery roads and inside their homes safe and sound.

A marvelous idea – really – considering the speed at which the next three weeks will fly by in preparation for Christmas.

Being homebound gave us time as a family to slow down... enjoy the snow, play games, practice upcoming-concert music, make meatballs and try a new cookie recipe. When we sat down for our evening meal, we were ready to consider this –
the first Sunday of Advent.

Aaron lit the first candle. (Noah begged for the chance to strike the match but agreed to snuff the candle later.) Dad read the scripture lesson. Isaac answered the questions. Mom chose this carol that we sang.

O come, O come Emmanuel
and ransom captive Israel
that mourns in lonely exile here
until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

To my dismay, one less-patient member concocted his own lines:

"And ransom the meatballs and ma-a-ashed potatoes,
Until the gravy and co-o-orn appear!"

Rather than chastise, I rolled my eyes heeding this wise Early Childhood Family Education advice:
"It's the process (that matters) not the product."

Our boys are long past the preschool years, but the advice still fits. I understand: a day of sliding does make a growing boy hungry and impatient with Mom's Advent attempts.

Yet each year, I repeat this process in hope that a final product will develop – one in which, as adults, our sons will also take time to slow down, remember and honor the true reason for the Christmas season. And, maybe even hold a candle-light service should a snowstorm bind them to their homes.

Following this home service, Noah extinguished the Candle of Hope.

May its fumes permeate our lives.